It's Just That Thing
by SqueakyTheDuck
Summary: After Family Reunion, Face is left with questions about who he is. And it's Murdock who has the answer.


**A/N: I used to watch this show all the time when I was about nine or ten. I had never seen Family Reunion before, though, until I got back into the A-Team more recently after discovering it on Netflix. Anyway, I was thinking about a scene from Mind Games where we find out all the different names Face has used, and it seemed like there was kind of an inconsistency, because in that episode it was revealed that he came up with Templeton Peck after using several others, but in The Bells of St. Mary's, that's the name we see on the plaque at his old school. All that together kinda got me thinking about Face and, well...names, and how he might feel about it...and this fic is an attempt to maybe explain some of that.**

He sat alone in silence under the tree, watching the moonlight dance over the water as the stars shone overhead. Night had fallen, and all was quiet.

Earlier that day Face had driven his newly-discovered half-sister to the airport. They had embraced one more time and, with promises to keep in touch, Ellen had boarded the plane to return home.

For the rest of the day Face was lost in his own thoughts, quieter than his teammates had ever seen him. He was glad when nighttime came and the typical chatter of his friends finally subsided. Eventually, everyone else went to bed, and Face was alone. He had laid back on the couch and tried to relax.

Unable to sleep, he had arisen around two in the morning and slipped outside quietly. Now he was sitting on the ground underneath a tall tree behind the house, a thousand thoughts and questions and emotions tumbling through his head all at once.

An hour passed, maybe two. Then he heard a soft voice behind him.

"You okay, buddy?"

"Just got a lot of stuff to think about, that's all, Murdock." Face replied without looking back. He motioned to the ground beside him and he felt his friend's presence draw nearer. The grass rustled softly as Murdock sat down next to him.

Murdock sat silent, looking out over the lake that stretched out before them, its placid waters reflecting the moonlight overhead. He didn't press for details. Face was glad for that.

"Murdock," he began at last. "What...what exactly did my father tell you about me?"

"He said you were born Richard Bancroft, and that he was sorry for leaving you, and that he regretted all the things he had done, all the mistakes he had made..." Murdock trailed off. Face had a very far-away look in his eyes. "You didn't hear any of that after 'Richard Bancroft', did you?"

Face shook his head slowly.

"That's what's been buggin' you all day, isn't it?" Murdock prodded.

Face turned his head and looked at his friend. Their eyes locked, and Face saw compassion and understanding reflected in his comrade's calm brown eyes.

Face turned his gaze back to the lake. "Y'know when I was a kid, the nuns at St. Mary's told me that Templeton Peck wasn't my real name. They didn't know my real name, so one of the sisters came up with one for me. That used to bug me so much. I felt like a part of me was—was missing or something. When I grew up I changed my name so many times...I don't know, I just thought...I guess I thought eventually I might hit on something and some latent memory would surface and I could say, "That's it! That's my name!" But it never happened. So finally I just went back to the name the nuns had given me. And then...all of this happened all of a sudden and what with all the adrenaline and the emotions and everything, it didn't even occur to me until I said goodbye to Ellen this afternoon that...maybe my father had told you."

Face looked at his friend again. "I thought that maybe once I knew, I would have that missing piece of myself that I've tried for so long to find. But now that I know...Richard Bancroft...it just...it just feels _wrong_. Like that's not who I am. I mean, who am I, Murdock? I'm the guy with so many names and yet...none of them are really _me_. I'm not Richard Bancroft. It's the name I was born with, but it's not me. I'm not Templeton Peck, either. It's just one of many aliases I've used as a con man over the years."

Murdock had listened to Face's story quietly, and now he sat, elbows propped on his knees and hands clasped together, looking down at the ground contemplatively.

"Y'know," he said softly. "So many people seem to have this idea that it's the name that makes the man. But that ain't true, buddy. It's the man who makes the name."

He met his friend's surprised gaze evenly. "Your name isn't what defines you. It's not who you are. It's just that thing that keeps people from callin' "Hey you!" to get your attention."

Face chuckled. It was the first time in days that he had laughed sincerely.

Murdock smiled and continued. "You wanna know who you are? I'll tell you who you are. You're a part of the A-Team. You're the man who's helped countless people escape tyranny and injustice. You're the guy that we all know we can count on."

Murdock put his arm around Face's shoulders. "And you're my best friend."

"So y'see," he went on. "It doesn't matter what name you choose to go by. What's important is what people are gonna remember when they hear that name. And you're a memorable man."

Face smiled at him. He felt the weight of his friend's arm around his shoulders replace the burden he had carried for so long. "Thanks Murdock."

"Any time."

They sat together in silence under the tree, watching the moonlight dance over the water as the stars shone overhead. Dawn was coming, and all was peaceful.


End file.
